book
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Snow and ice dripped from thatch eaves, creating slick, muddy tracks in the melt. Rodney’s birlinn docked on the second day of frost break. Thin sheets of ice dances around the hull, squeaking a thin tune over the thunk of wood and slap of rope. Gulls cried in a clear morning, greeting a pale pink…
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Seonaid and Fearchar’s heads spun into the inky blackness. “Ye bloody well could’a died, ye eejit!” Fearchar screamed at his employer. Eoin snorted. “You think that was a one-time occurrence.” He smiled sardonically.
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The inn door hinges creaked, drawing their attention to the shaft of light brightening the dim room. Fearchar sucked in his breath. “Get tae…plague…”
Chapel Orahamm 